


Final Night Alive

by mini_puffs



Series: In Hindsight [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream SMP Election, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mini_puffs/pseuds/mini_puffs
Summary: An hour before the election, Tubbo shows him their escape plan.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: In Hindsight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979266
Comments: 15
Kudos: 249





	Final Night Alive

“There’s something I want to show you, just in case--just in case things go south.”

"In case-- _agh!"_

Tommy slaps a tree branch out of the way, hand gripped tightly around his sword. He debates on whether or not to slice it off but the curious glance from Tubbo is enough for him to lower it. L’manburg may be beautiful but they really should’ve tried hiring someone who knew more about landscaping. Splotches of grass and mud stain the front of his coat, never washing out no matter how many times he’s tried. Wilbur’s going to have a fit about that, or make it even worse, who knows. Scraping mud off his boots, he looks back up at Tubbo, not a speck of dirt on them. 

“It’s over here,” Tubbo says. He crouches under a branch and disappears. “Come in!” They yell, voice muffled.

“Where the hell did you go?” Tommy lifts the branch but all there is is the river, leading in and out of the walls of L’manburg. Tubbo’s voice is faint over the rushing water and Tommy wades through, making sure to not get anything past his boots wet. “Tubbo?” 

No response. The fish swim out of his way. “Tubbo.” He tries again. “Tubbo!”

Something grabs his ankle and he yelps, falling flat on his back in the water. Shit. So much for trying to stay fucking dry. His sword clatters against the rocks and he tries to grab it but it’s too late because whatever is gripping onto him isn’t letting go. His stomach drops and a moment later his back is pressed against a hardwood floor, familiar laughter echoing in the background.

“Oh, man,” Tubbo laughs, wiping a tear from his eye. Their clothes are dry unlike Tommy’s, dripping wet as they help him stand. Lucky bastard. “Sorry about that. Did I scare you?”

“No.” He blames the shaking of his hands on the cold. It’s awfully chilly in whatever room they’re in and from the river above, they must be underground. The walls are smooth cut stone and he doesn’t remember ever creating an underground system. “Why’d you bring me down here--what the _fuck?!”_

Gesturing to the staircase below, Tubbo practically beams and chuckles at Tommy’s unabashed shock. There are at least a hundred steps, and he can’t even see where it ends. “What--when--how did you--” He sputters. A million questions swim through his mind and he settles on one before speaking again instead of gaping like a fish. “How did you build this? Where did you find the time? You were with me,” Tommy realizes, “the whole day yesterday. What the fuck?”

“I don’t sleep.” Tubbo grins and beckons for him to follow. “C’mon, your clothes will dry soon. Wait till you see the rest of it.”

“There’s more?!” Damn right there’s more, miniature farms, bookshelves, storages, and even more rooms they pass by until Tubbo leads him to a dead-end, pulling a lever down and guiding him into an even more hidden area. Rows of books line the walls and Tubbo taps one for them to slide back and reveal three brewing stands and a chest, smoke filling the room. 

Tommy coughs and waves a hand to clear the air. Tubbo’s knee-deep in the chest, chucking out monster parts and spare glass bottles with fluids he doesn’t want to ask, muttering various phrases he can’t make out. “The election results are in an hour, aren’t they?” They ask over the clutter.

“We’ll get them when Wilbur arrives,” Tommy says. He steps out of the way just in time for an axe to embed itself into the wall. The torch flame dies and he relights it with one in his bag, Tubbo’s rummaging speeding up by the minute. “Holy shit, you could’ve taken off my head.” They make a small sound at that. “What’re doing anyway? This whole place--”

“‘Hope for the best, plan for the worst,’” Tubbo explains, answering none of his questions at all. Jesus Christ--now is not the time to be cryptic. “Listen, listen, okay.” Breathing in, they sigh and dash towards a brewing stand with grey bubbles foaming over the top. “Oh god, um, that’s not looking quite hot. Anyway,” he nervously laughs and runs a hand through his hair, his cap falling off. Tommy scoops it back up but he doesn’t take it back. “I figured,” they say, “you know when there’s an emergency and the president has to get out of somewhere?”

“Yes. What about it?” The gears click in his mind. “Oh! Oh, so you just--wow, okay, okay.”

“Here.” Shoving a few glass bottles into his arms, Tubbo runs back to the wall to pull the bookshelves forward and hide the potions. “You don’t have much time, but if the election goes wrong you can always come here.”

Tommy eyes the flasks warily, shaking it and watching the liquid swirl around. “What’s this for?” He asks. 

“Invisibility.” Tubbo hands him two more, bright red and blue. “This one’s strength, swiftness, and yeah, I think these three should cover it. Take another set for Wilbur too,” he adds. “He might need it.”

“Right, thanks.” Shoving them into his bag, Tommy slings it over his shoulder. It may be the air and his now dry clothes, but everything about this feels stiff as if it’s been rehearsed and planned in advance. He buries that feeling along with the potions. “We’ve got to go now,” he says. “Showing up late wouldn’t look too good, huh?”

_He should’ve noticed._

Might cost them a few votes or something. Tommy laughs and heads down the hall, his footsteps echoing until he realizes the side next to him is empty. He turns back around and Tubbo hasn’t moved an inch. “Tubbo,” he calls, “are you coming?”

_There weren't enough potions for all of them._

Tubbo snaps out of his daze and nods, closing the chest with a soft click. Their hat stays on the desk as he runs back up to him. “Yeah, I’m right behind you, Tommy." They smile. "Right by your side.”

**Author's Note:**

> writing practice yeet, i think i might write more for the election events but idk ;-;


End file.
